Gear
by gleefulmusings
Summary: Faith wants to take Cordelia for a ride, but soon comes to realize who's really driving.


**Title**: _Gear_  
><strong>Author<strong>: gleefulmusings (formerly xanzpet)  
><strong>Fandom<strong>: _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_, Season Three AU  
><strong>Pairing<strong>: Cordelia/Faith  
><strong>Rating<strong>: M  
><strong>Warning(s)<strong>: Sexual situations, including some fondling, but nothing too risqué; language.  
><strong>Disclaimer<strong>: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, lyrics, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Snippets of dialogue may be incorporated from the original canonical episode(s) and belong to their respective authors/creators. The original characters and plot are the property of the author(s). The author(s) is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended, nor should any be inferred. No profit is being made.

**Summary**: Faith wants to take Cordelia for a ride, but she soon comes to realize who's really driving.

* * *

><p>From almost the moment she had stepped foot in the Dale, Buffy and her bimbo posse had been warning her about Cordelia Chase. The girl was obnoxious, arrogant, vicious, cruel, and a host of polysyllabic synonyms which they assumed she wouldn't understand.<p>

She had understood just fine, but never bothered to correct their misconception. In fact, it seemed that as much as they talked, Buffy, Willow, and Xander were pretty clueless about a lot of things. It would have been funny if it weren't so pathetic.

Their warnings were redundant. The second she laid eyes on Queen C, she had pegged her as a bitch of the highest caliber. Hell, a neon sign might as well have been flashing above her head. It hadn't scared her off, of course, especially after she had caught sight of the girl in her cheerleading uniform.

Holy shit, those tits were _luscious_, and Faith wanted to bury her head between them.

So she did the observation thing, checking Cordelia out when she thought the other girl wasn't looking. Problem was, the bitch saw everything all the time. Third eye, up periscope, the whole shebang. There wasn't shit that didn't go down in that school – hell, in the _town_– of which Queen C was unaware.

Faith had to admire that level of micromanagement; _that _was how you ran a company. If Giles were smart, he'd ask the Queen to mentor him.

She watched as the girl verbally eviscerated everyone in her path, words like knives and glares like ice baths. The only one who even approached Cordelia's level of savagery was Xander, and wasn't _that_ a fuckin' surprise? Who knew the boy had a pair? Still, in the end, he, like all the others, eventually conceded defeat.

The more she watched, the hotter she got. She wondered just how much pressure she would have exert, what buttons she would have to press, to get Queen C to thaw even a fraction. She was betting that once Cordelia got going, she'd go down faster than the Titanic. Faith wasn't all that into girls, but there were always exceptions.

Cordelia Chase was a major fucking exception.

She knew the girl had seen her looking, and she knew when someone was interested. Cordelia may have been the good girl playing bad, but Faith was sure there was an inner harlot buried deep inside, just moaning for release. The question was, how to unleash it?

She did okay with the banter of which the Scoobies were so fond, but she knew she was definitely out of Cordelia's league, the girl who could shut them all down with a raised eyebrow. That was what most intrigued the Slayer: the bitch said and did whatever she wanted, and no one really challenged her. They just accepted it as part and parcel.

She had figured out early on that the way into Cordelia's thong was honesty. Flattery was good, but everyone already paid her that; it was old hat. She wouldn't be able to embarrass her with frankness as she could Buffy or Willow, and the Queen was too cool to get tetchy with some offhanded innuendo, like Xander. Fuck it. Words were overrated.

Faith stood outside the Bronze, smirking, knowing her prey was just inside, holding court as she did every night. She opened the door and sauntered inside, taking a moment to preen and revel in the appraisals of the jealous and the horny.

The acolytes were hovering about Cordelia, but Faith saw that the girl hated them as much as she hated everything else about Sunnydale. She saw Harmony take note of her arrival, and watched as the dummy commented on it to Cordelia, who glared at the blond as if Harmony were suicidal. She noticed the Queen's eyes flit briefly in her direction, but it was the gaze of the uninterested or the amused.

Well, fuck that. She'd seen that movie, the one where Glenn Close was a complete psycho with a bad perm, and Faith was not about to be ignored. Where the hell was a damn bunny?

Squaring her shoulders, she stormed over to the table, though her gait was seductive and unhurried, her hips at maximum sway. She sneered at Harmony and Aura and the other girl whose name was destined to be forgotten by everyone, all three launching into pathetic insults which were fucking laughable. She dismissed them, planting her hands on the table and staring down at Cordelia, who smirked up at her, garnet lips curved into a feline smile which put a song in Faith's heart and wetness between her legs.

She held out a hand, only mildly surprised when Cordelia accepted it and rose to her feet. The sycophants began bleating like slaughtered goats, but shut their flapping maws when Cordelia quirked that damned eyebrow. She brushed past Faith and sashayed toward the door, strutting as if she were on a runway, tossing her hair like a prized thoroughbred. In that moment, Faith wanted nothing more than to wriggle in between those long legs and tease the bitch until she was begging for mercy. She quickly gave pursuit, disregarding the hoots and catcalls at their departure.

Suddenly Cordelia turned on her heel and slowly took in the entire club, her eyes narrowed and meeting those of everyone else. The chatter died and she was never the first to look away. Faith unconsciously licked her lips in anticipation.

They exited silently and Faith wished with all her heart that Buffy and her loser friends had been there to witness her triumph. She pranced outside and came to an abrupt halt as she found Cordelia waiting for her, tapping an impatient foot, her arms crossed and head cocked.

Unsure as to what to say, Faith dug into her pocket and withdrew her pack of Marlboros, flicking open her Zippo and exhaling a series of smoke rings which would have left the most hardened Hell's Angel in tears. She tilted her head toward the parking lot.

"That your car?"

"Are you illiterate? Read the plate."

Faith suppressed a groan, thinking about what she was going to do to the bitch once she had Cordelia naked and spread-eagled on the cheap motel bed, its sheets reeking of nicotine and bargain detergent. She smirked and stepped forward, brazenly snaking her fingers up underneath the girl's skirt, teasing at the front of lace panties which she would have bet were as white as virgin snow. She bit her lip, drawing blood, as she heard Cordelia's breath still, her eyes growing lidded and heavy.

"You ever do this before?"

"Irrelevant. I always succeed." She shrugged and then grinned, cupping one of Faith's breasts in her hand. "Ask anyone. Queen C _always_ comes out on top."

Faith snaked her other hand behind Cordelia and pressing the girl flush against her. "Is that right?"

Cordelia snorted. "Boy, you _are_ new."

She grabbed the Slayer by the shoulders and spun them around, Faith crashing into the brick wall of the club before Cordelia pressed a scorching kiss to her lips, leaving the Slayer gasping and dazed. She pulled back and lowered her mouth to Faith's ear, as her hand went around the girl's throat.

"But don't worry," the cheerleader purred. "I'll steer you around the curves."


End file.
